It was an uncharacteristically boisterous and loud night at the Tarquinian Palace, especially since the days that the Autarch’s Austerity had descended upon the Holy City of Donom Dei. Paid for by the guests who attended the feast, the party, none could say that the Autarch was engaging in the frivolity of nobility. Especially since they had demanded it, and required an event suitable for what they thought a man of such power should have. New fresh silk for the walls, carpets never trodden upon, musicians and beautiful performers from as far as Caelus and an eight course dinner menu to rival a king of old times, as well as demonstrations of new technology and weaponry, even surreptitious stashes of opium and other pleasure drugs to be stealthily given over to those who could not celebrate without it. There was nothing that couldn’t be asked for, and the generosity of the collective pockets spilled into the streets, though the Capital Police ensured that everything was in respectful order, and there was not a hint of debauchery to be found anywhere but within the walls of the Tarquinian.

Di Avolo knew well of what had brought this party into being, as he had helped plan it down to the bright golden lights that newly shone like the sun in the vaulting above. Sank quite a bit of money and favors into it, though nothing he could not gain again. It was not for his sake, and none here would know of his significance in it, even if they read the list of donors and took the meager official sum of his tribute as humble fibbing.

He was at this party here, looking unassuming as ever. An important person to know for societal connections, yes, but none assumed he had any actual power or authority, except those in the know. The austere Gilician temple knight grandmasters, sneering at the excess, thought a man without a blade at his side to be feeble. The blue headed Paellan bachelors and princesses, sent as envoys but acting more like unhinged delinquents slipping away with whomever they fancied at the first opportunity, saw no might in Di Avolo’s seemingly middling coffers of coin and plain dress. Moss-headed Trelani and their duskier and wilder Kallean cousins were as ever in their own picture of the world, that they had painted as looking down upon the others. They’d have preferred the other Azure Halls champion for his wife, but he had fallen out of his place of influence, so dealings had to be made with the Autarch. Any Halmeggian envoys were absent or hidden, so it was only the lone diplomat from the Grossreich who seemed to take any pause when he regarded Di Avolo, seeing something beneath what all other eyes slipped off of.

Especially when eyes slipped off of Di Avolo and onto his accompaniment, though she was ironically seeking that unseen truth. As his escort, Di Avolo had taken along a young thing half his age, the socialite Alessandra Ferrara.

She was dark and sensual, tall and slim, hypnotizingly elegant in her beauty, her onyx hair descending like a waterfall of ink over bronze shoulders, blending with the black dress that clung to her body like a river running off of her from the breast to the thigh. Yet Di Avolo would not dream of plucking this young sweet fruit, for perhaps the famously ogrish Julio Di Alba would pluck his own daughter, as Di Avolo had no doubts he already had, but Di Avolo followed actual principles. Alessandra was the first of two illegitimate and only children, her Sea-Vitelian mother the only woman so enchanting that he was bewitched into taking her without heed for the future.

If Di Avolo had recognized her, she would be a Di Nera like the half-brother she did not know, but he had not wished that. He loved her as a father should, but if she was to inherit nobility, she would earn such a place as he had to. As he intended her to. With her reputation and her own network of strings to pull on, she was well on her way to worthiness. Her sharp and cunning eyes, like a fox on the hunt, instinctively sought prey as she prodded her father with questions. She assumed his openness was because he had lust for her. No such thing, he only felt pride in his brood, who had clawed her way from common birth to here with only the advantages of her father’s mind and her mother’s body.

“I can’t help but notice,” Alessandra trilled, “That the Autarch is missing from his own festivities. Does he not want to show his Halmeggian milk-cow to the lords of the realm? Does he have more important things to do, with so many who have traveled so far to see him here? Or has he taken much in monetary donation and arrangements to craft an insult?”

Di Avolo glanced over with a smile, “Are you asking for my opinion?”

“I am asking if you know the truth.” Alessandra said, fluttering her eyelashes and sipping from a tall flute of freshly poured sparkling red wine.

“I know well of the Autarch’s past, and his present character. He has changed remarkably little. Not a family man, not a lush, he is as ever a simple soldier.”

“The soldier is not here with the generals and their appointments, though,” Alessandra gestured to a gaggle of young officers who were drooling over her, “So you imply...?”

Di Avolo felt no need to be forthcoming in spoken word, but yes. As the Augustans reveled here, the Autarch inspected his armies, to see if the picture the martial factions of influence sold him was the truth. As per Di Avolo’s indirect suggestion, of course, smart advice distributed through an appropriate marionette. Strings for strings.

Alessandra’s eyes narrowed. “I should hope for him that they do not overthink his absence, then.”

“They think themselves superior because of the Autarch’s common birth,” Di Avolo said, “An ally of convenience. He is no general, no noble, nothing they are accustomed to seeing as more than a tool.”

“Then they will regret underestimating him.” Alessandra said coolly, a hint of spite in her expression and the curl of lip.

Di Avolo stroked her cheek, letting a bit of truth go to her. “You know that sentiment well, don’t you? Yet you know the opportunities well enough too.”

Quick as his daughter was, he saw the doubt in her eyes right away. The question of why a man would caress her cheek in comfort rather than groping at her flesh, pawing at her in desire, even if it was of the restrained touches and pokes acceptable in public. It would be all the hint she’d have for now. She’d figure out soon enough.

“Come, though,” Di Avolo led Alessandra along, “If you wish to know how the generals care for the party of the moment in spite of the absence of the host, let me introduce you to the men most worth speaking to. Though you’d best not think of leaving my side, hm?”

-----

September 9, 1928 – Deep Beneath the Vitelian Sea

Marz Von Trocken of the Aurora Legion received updates from the front above every few days, though he’d preferred to have had them every night. It hardly mattered that little of consequence was happening yet, it was a window somewhere besides this test facility, where he felt he and his volunteer unit were the only ones sitting around with no opportunities to win glory and renown. Yes, he held a privileged position here, as commander of an experimental armor unit like none would ever see, but he was a young man and twice as impatient as any his age. The Stijder might be the future of warfare, but it felt as though progress was so slow that the future might also pass by before he led this new tank company into the future it was being made to fight for.

Each day was busywork, constant tests with equipment that was exhausting to operate, the tests themselves made to be as fatiguing as possible, with solutions for reported problems often being just as troublesome. It was common for Von Trocken to start screaming at the hapless mole-rat engineers and scientists out of indignant frustration, especially when common breakdowns with the furthest developed panzers, left he or his unit doing nothing but sitting on their hands. Required to be at constant readiness in case repairs were completed faster than usual or new tools were made on the spot to be trained on, it wasn’t even possible to make his own pastime. The snapping back and forth between grueling work and boredom was driving him mad, and he was certain, plenty of his comrades here.

If they were allowed to go into a city to see dancing girls clad in naught but a thin second skin through which light passed through at very brief angles, tantalizingly flashed through in pose and movement, that would be enough. Even to get to eat good food and drink liquor, it might have been a tolerating grind, but instead the testing facility had become their prison. The only hope was that at the end of this, it would all prove to be so terribly worth it that not only would the Aurora Legion have a panzer unit that stood head and shoulders above any other, but also that such would be recognized by the Legion’s leadership. A captaincy at the age of 20 if Von Trocken was lucky, 21 assuredly…perhaps he could convince the leader, Bonaventura, to even advance him a rank above that, in recognition of the special capability? Such a young man of high rank was unprecedented save in times where history was made…

Not everybody agreed, though, such as Von Trocken’s own scholarly gunner.

“Perhaps this is a good excuse to brush up on your Utopian theory, hm?” The bespectacled Imperial asked as he paged through a new treatise that had arrived by mail, “You aren’t thinking of fighting for Socialism and such without understanding what you’re bringing about, are you?”

“Bah,” Von Trocken scraped his foot along the ground with contempt, like a fenced bull, “I know well enough of that, and what we’re going to bring about. What use is knowing every miniscule detail of every tract by heart if you win no battles? You train so seldomly, I wonder if you should be in accounting if you weren’t such a good shot. I don’t wonder how you’re a virgin, with how you dote on paper instead of girls.”
His gunner raised an eyebrow and flashed a smile of crooked white teeth. “I also don’t wonder that with you. I think you’re in no place to give advice, my lord. Even I could tell you better what to do if you’re so intent on finding your way between any legs but Katze’s.”

“I could do better than that.”

“Why so sore? Is it because she offered, or because she said it was out of pity?”

“I’m not in any mood to be mocked right now. I’ve got nobody to take myself out on.”

“That may not be the case for long,” the gunner mused coyly, “I’ve heard tell of a coming field test opportunity. There’s been a setback near here where the local militias have been outmatched by ferocious beasts. Ones that need our cannon and mobility perhaps.”

Von Trocken seized up with anticipation and wild imagining. A glimmer dancer had just bent in a way that he could see the pink edges of something. “Ferocious beasts? Are they nature or a machination of the Sovereignty? They’d have little choice but to send out whatever was available if it was the latter, what else would be a target but these lands?”

“It’s only a rumor,” the gunner teased, “You know how the mole rats are. But it’ll be enough for them to have to spill out how to properly maintain and repair these things. I doubt these eggheads have the stomachs to risk being eaten by Living Stones.”

“Even if they don’t risk these machines,” Von Trocken said hopefully, “We have other prior models here. Left unguarded. Functional.”

“How naughty of you to know that.”

Von Trocken flashed an intense look towards the outside, through the wall of the dome. “Whether they want to or not, they’ll be grateful to us soon enough. And even a single Legionnaire shan’t ever be underestimated by these pale faces again.”

-----

September 10, 1928 – Nuvole Blu Isles, The Vitelian Sea

You are Palmiro Bonaventura. Once upon a time, your close friends called you Bonetto, preferring the shortened version of your surname to your true one. Palmetto lacked the proper masculinity for a man like you, Leo had argued successfully. Now, you might not have had anybody near who would use that name for you. Palmiro, Papa, or amongst the Legion, Legato di Legione. That was a new one, from those who thought it strange to call you Capo or Boss or Fuhrer (a lot of the Legion’s newer blood came from New Nauk speaking places), but the lofty title had been selected without your input by the top command staff and the administration, and so it would stick. So Legato it was, strange as it was to use such a title for the lead of a mercenary troop rather than, say, the Old Nauk term for one of the generals of the empire, translated twice over.

Your recent concerns hadn’t been entirely with the Legion, though, nor the Harzwohlkan War it had been fighting. Your mind had been on your ominous final meeting with Leo, the last that you were like to have for a while. Besides that, other close to home matters had made themselves a problem over the past couple of weeks.

When you and Yena were in bed lately, stoking the fires of her needy libido again, you had been having…trouble. Not the sort expected of age, thank goodness, but that would have also been easy to solve. No, you had been having trouble with the part Yena enjoyed most. Actually concluding. The stamina was the sort many men would probably be jealous of, but it wasn’t a willing sort, nor was it desired. It actually seemed to severely wound your wife’s pride, that she couldn’t bring you over the edge. You’d have thought that bringing her to her climax would be enough, but she would sulk in bitter silence over it, like she felt bad about enjoying herself, that she became too exhausted to continue even after unreasonable time spent. To be true, she’d never made a secret that she didn’t consider any sort of sexual activity proper if you didn’t give over your seed inside at the end. With all the children she’d given you and the responsibility in family rearing she had, it seemed that sex was a vital part of Yena’s end-of-day decompression and emotional release- especially with the havoc that pregnancy played upon her body and mind, despite having been so regularly with child that she was well accustomed to its effects.

There was no logical reason why sleeping with her wasn’t giving you climax. It wasn’t that she lacked for beauty, as even at forty years of age, she had lost little, and by virtue of being by your side so long, gained much. It wasn’t that she lacked appreciated skill in intimacy either, as you knew each other’s bodies very well, to the point that you knew Yena kept count, and the numbers had become comically high enough to sound like a cryptic code if it were ever told to anybody out of context. Yet she refused to acknowledge that the problem might be with you rather than her.

“It’s this island,” you theorized one evening as you walked with her along the beach, children left in the care of others or to their own devices so that your wife could breathe. “This feeling of exile. To be here is to have the reality of what has happened constantly in my face. We are not in a place I could call home nor holiday. The Legion is around us, and they are in a war. It disturbs my focus.” Yena was quiet, letting your words slip around her. So you grasped her waist and held her close. “You’re already pregnant anyways, dearest. What does it matter?”

Yena grumbled at you in a half-mumbled complaint. “That does not mean I do not like the feeling. Love it in every way. Besides that, I cannot help your command, fight in your army, but you have many who can do that. Only I can relieve your tension…and you have been so full of it lately, yet I can do nothing. It should make a woman ashamed, should it not? To ever have a time when she cannot give her husband pleasure and release?”

“Ashamed? Never.” You sighed, “It’s like an…illness, Yena. I will get over it.” Though it was another problem on the pile of a sort you didn’t know how to address.

“I suppose,” Yena allowed, “There are many eyes upon you here…”

>It’s a symptom of a greater overshadowing thing. You do need to leave this place for elsewhere, with Yena, and perhaps with nobody else, for a time… (Where to?)
>The Legion might have been able to take care of itself, but as its leader, you couldn’t leave it during times like this. You would simply have to endure.
>Other?

When you returned from your walk, it wasn’t time to satisfy your wife or yourself, though, as an adjutant staff was waiting for you to come back with a missive from the front…

-----

An unexpected event had occurred in the war beneath the sea, where the Harzwohlkan battled over their future- and the Aurora Legion fought for but one front, but their presence had already been well felt.

What had been envisioned as a relatively small-scale raid to destroy the rail complex called the Staalstazzon, the Steel Station, had ballooned quickly into a grand assault by around half of the Aurora Legion along with its supporting assets. An attack of a scale impossible for the Union Army’s managerial pace to have planned so quickly, the sudden assembly and seemingly arbitrary attack had also caught the Sovereignty off guard: the battle was another easy one as the subterranean reactionaries were outnumbered and outflanked from every angle, and completely overwhelmed by superior firepower.

More than the station being captured along with the trains and equipment in it, there was a vast, vulnerable crack in the Sovereignty’s battle lines, a hole that other units from both sides were flowing into like water, pulling the rest of the frontline towards it like a whirlpool. That had become apparent to Commander Alga mere hours after accomplishing the operational objective. In the original plan, the station was to be sabotaged, abandoned, and destroyed. He was still considering it in spite of communiques now urging the contrary. He might claim it as communications failing to reach him in time and thus simply following through with the original orders. Now though, it felt like the eye of a storm that hadn’t quite come together yet. Reinforcements called reinforcements, not even necessarily because of the station or any exploitation or recapture of it, but merely because there was a void that needed to be addressed as soon as possible. Like a bridge under stress, groaning from the strain of its own weight after but a single support fell. Continuous probing had found little resistance over the past week, a state of affairs that seemed to demand action.

For the Sovereignty, the objective was seemingly to maintain the line. That was what Donomo Alga would assume they would have wanted, considering their defensive posture and lesser resources. The Legion wasn’t preparing to exploit this dangerous gap, however, as the Union tripped over their own forces trying to rush for what their objective was- which was now within reach of the Legion and their allies in this operation. A large settlement called Rookpoel, a large sprawling town by an underground lake. It was also, from the white columns that stretched to the ceiling, tributed to by a series of steam vents and springs. The steam contributed to coating both the settlement and the surrounding valleys in a dense white fog, the other element making the place practically wreathed in cotton from the outside being the mass bonfires of incense vapors.

Aside from being one of the many sources of the constant damp that formed the Gallery’s climate, the lake was the source of canals that not only distributed water around the region, but also formed a maritime logistical network that went all the way back to the Sovereignty’s capital, the heart of whatever war industry remained.

The reason for wanting to take the place was obvious, but Alga could already smell poor fortunes. Being the first ones into what would likely be a meat grinder was rarely wise, and moreover, the place was so desirable that he couldn’t help but suspect a trap for it being so ill defended. The Wolkmihnar companies that had accompanied the Legion on this operation certainly thirsted for further glory. The assault on the station had been planned with them alongside, but the numbers were such that the Legion’s men exceeded their Harzwohlkan allies, and an easy success was clearly not enough to sing about in the days they anticipated coming.

It wasn’t Alga’s decision to make, though, nor was it the Wolkmihnar’s. The Boss would be saying whether to press on or not- even as the opportunity seemed to be a matter of initiative and haste…

Fourth Company remained on reconnoitering duties, especially with the chaos of the recent, but they hadn’t reported back in a couple days. A matter of concern, though Alga trusted Captain Schoenbijter to not have messed up. Third Company was in Sosaldt and the newly formed Sixth Company maintained their garrison in the tunnels, but the remainder of the Legion was at the ready. First, Second, and Fifth Companies, as well as the Heavy Mortar Company, were fully replete with soldiers and supplies, while two companies of allied Harzwohlkan infantry were also well prepared for battle. The Wolkmihnar companies had been affectionately dubbed Third and Fourth Company, as the actual Third and Fourth of the Legion were not present.
The information had been prepared, enciphered, and sent upwards some hours ago. Only now did the orders return:

>Make the attack at once: Even if the enemy was not so vulnerable they seemed, the Legion could take on the Sovereignty even at their fiercest, surely.
>If there was the smell of a trap there was no need to get close enough to know the taste of one. Have the Legion dig in at the Steel Station and maintain a defensive posture.
>There was no need to overcommit, nor to be overly cautious, merely a need to be ready. Have the Legion remain near and ready to react to whatever might be demanded by their allies or the situation.
>Other?

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3.89 MB GIF

I set up a Rentry for the thread lists and archives for this and the rest of the setting stories. Pastebin was getting long in the tooth for a while, though I still have stuff to add to it.
https://rentry.co/PanzerCommanderQuest
Twitter is @scheissfunker for various art and updates and stuff.
Don't hesitate to ask questions about anything, of course, regarding in-character or in-setting knowledge.

>>6329949
>It’s a symptom of a greater overshadowing thing. You do need to leave this place for elsewhere, with Yena, and perhaps with nobody else, for a time… (Go to Naukland to visit your first son.)

>>6329951
>There was no need to overcommit, nor to be overly cautious, merely a need to be ready. Have the Legion remain near and ready to react to whatever might be demanded by their allies or the situation.

>>6329951
>It’s a symptom of a greater overshadowing thing. You do need to leave this place for elsewhere, with Yena, and perhaps with nobody else, for a time… (Go back to Lapizlazulli for a few days)

I'd like to go to Naukland to visit Lorenzo at some point but it's likely too much of a time commitment right now.

>There was no need to overcommit, nor to be overly cautious, merely a need to be ready. Have the Legion remain near and ready to react to whatever might be demanded by their allies or the situation.

>>6329949
>>6329951
Supporting >>6329963

>>6329949
>The Legion might have been able to take care of itself, but as its leader, you couldn’t leave it during times like this. You would simply have to endure.
>>6329951
>If there was the smell of a trap there was no need to get close enough to know the taste of one. Have the Legion dig in at the Steel Station and maintain a defensive posture.

>>6329951
>It’s a symptom of a greater overshadowing thing. You do need to leave this place for elsewhere, with Yena, and perhaps with nobody else, for a time… (Where to?)
Emre is nice this time of year I hear, as long as there is something else to do than sip wine for Yena.

>There was no need to overcommit, nor to be overly cautious, merely a need to be ready. Have the Legion remain near and ready to react to whatever might be demanded by their allies or the situation.

>>6329953
Your willingness to throw Anya straight into the teeth of internet trends is one of your most entertaining habits

>>6329949
>It’s a symptom of a greater overshadowing thing. You do need to leave this place for elsewhere, with Yena, and perhaps with nobody else, for a time… (Naukland)

>>6329951
>There was no need to overcommit, nor to be overly cautious, merely a need to be ready. Have the Legion remain near and ready to react to whatever might be demanded by their allies or the situation.

>>6329951
Supporting >>6329963

>>6329951
>The Legion might have been able to take care of itself, but as its leader, you couldn’t leave it during times like this. You would simply have to endure.
>There was no need to overcommit, nor to be overly cautious, merely a need to be ready. Have the Legion remain near and ready to react to whatever might be demanded by their allies or the situation.

File: pantsu_halloween_special copy.png (5.87 MB, 2000x1790)

5.87 MB PNG

>>6329963
>>6330056
>>6330347
>>6330409
You haven't seen Lorenzo in some time- and seen the northern source of Imperium never...

>>6329992
Where better than back home?

>>6330083
>>6330437
It's the season to not nut anyways.

>>6330108
It's time to get your wife a new atom suit from the source.

>6329963
>6329992
>6330056
>6330108
>6330347
>6330409
>6330437
Keep an eye on it- and a hand out.

>6330083
Pull back, something's smelly underground.

I'll get to writing the update when I wake up.

>>6330108
>Your willingness to throw Anya straight into the teeth of internet trends is one of your most entertaining habits
She's tough enough to handle it. Though sometimes I'm tricked into it.

>>6329949
>The Legion might have been able to take care of itself, but as its leader, you couldn’t leave it during times like this. You would simply have to endure.

>>6329951
>>If there was the smell of a trap there was no need to get close enough to know the taste of one. Have the Legion dig in at the Steel Station and maintain a defensive posture.

Sorry for the late response feel free to ignore my vote if its too late.

Good to see you back tanq, i am in love with the OP drawings for this series, cool as fuck yet ominous.

I ended up making up a prior sleep cycle and woke up very late today, so I have to abbreviate this update.

>>6330556
>I am in love with the OP drawings for this series,
I appreciate it, it's also an opportunity to be pretty blatant as far as symbolism goes. Though I've tried to tie in a little with each iteration since a while back, it's never been this fantastical.

Orders from Legato: Maintain readiness posture, do not advance. Be ready for any change in situation. Combat readiness is prioritized over action at this moment. Keep an eye out for a trap or reversal in fortunes.

So, Alga’s decision was thus made. The ambitious and impetuous Wolkmihnar were made restless by not getting to attack this seeming vulnerability, but satisfied by the possibility itself not being denied. It did mean that any defensive measures would be half-ready by nature, so Alga certainly hoped it wasn’t a trap.

Perhaps it would give time for Fourth Company to make themselves known again, along with whatever information they had found in ranging so far…

-----

The news from underground turned out to not be too dangerous- but it could have been, if you had made a hotheaded decision. However, you were far from the front, and you would not be a copy of one of the leaders who had been in command of you when you had been part of the frontlines. Already you had done more than the Union of Harzwohlkan had demanded, and if they had not asked for further action from you, there was no reason to do anything risky. Especially when you intended to address personal affairs rather than looking for a reason to get more deeply involved with affairs below.

It was true enough that you shouldn’t be away from the Legion these days for long, even for just a short holiday, even if none of the men would question it, but the alternative seemed to be letting your closest relations fray away ever so gradually. So, you’d quit of these shores, just for a time, to go somewhere else. Perhaps you’d see something important that you hadn’t before.

Combining motivations, you arranged to go and see Lorenzo, your oldest son, who was in higher education in Naukland’s capital of Stor Ankomst. It had been more than a year since you or your wife last saw your eldest son, and your firstborn Vittoria had gotten her time. Your babies would come along, both because Lorenzo had a new brother he’d never met, and because while there were those of the Legion trustworthy enough to mind after the needs of children, none would provide what an infant needed of their parents.

As for your other children, besides Vittoria, who was attending university…

>Bring them along. It might be for your nerves, but it was also to see Lorenzo, who had been away from the others just as much as you.
>Leave them with the Legion on Nuvole Blu. They were safest surrounded by the men.
>Send them home for a time to Lapizlazulli. They might not be surrounded by soldiers there, but it was their house, and Elena would take good care of them.
>Other?

Planning a series of flights to Naukland was not simple nor cheap, since most of those who bothered to make direct trips were often business representatives or similarly privately funded individuals, but it was far from impossible. All it necessitated was flying over the Reich, which was easier now than it had ever been, to Delsau.

Which was the only place along any practical path you in particular seemed to be readily permitted besides Sosaldt. Apparently your fame had gotten the better of you in the societally stagnated cental and southern west of Vinstraga, in Sosalia, where your name was known as that of a dangerous anarchist agitator. Not how you would describe yourself, but they could have their labels. You weren’t interested in visiting those places anyways. The whole thing would take a week to prepare, during which time you kept an ear to the ground for what occurred below, just in case. You’d only be away for a few days at most, since Naukland was one of the few places you didn’t know the tongue to speak in (though you might have, if you were of the mind to read Cathedra text in its original format), but that was always enough time for unexpected and unpleasant developments to happen in a war, even an unseen and unheard one.

As interested as you’d be in hearing what your son had learned in one of the foremost engineering schools in the world, you couldn’t help but be more interested in another object of more recent news: he had met a lady friend that he had gotten bold enough to tell you about in his letters. One appropriate to his age. The boy had spent too long being meek around the fairer sex, and with Vittoria remaining distressingly single, you were eager to measure the quality of your son’s speculation. Since he seemed suspect of this girl, who he admitted seemed to not be particularly well suited to the engineering school, who needed his help a lot of the time. Who seemed to be evading the particular notice of Vang who might have otherwise commented if it seemed to be a threat.

“Naukland’s peaks are thin of the folk,” Yena said skeptically of that. “I would rather he be less hasty, if possible.”

Yes, Yena wanted at least one line of her children to be “pure-blooded,” at least by Nief’yem blood law standards. Which worked in ways that were contrary to the eye, as Lorenzo was Half Nief’yem while his elder sister, who had not a single strand of green upon her scalp, was considered Full-Blooded, as were her younger sisters. However, the child of a Half and a Full was considered whole no matter if they were girl or boy, so Yena was naturally in support of him choosing a mountain-blooded girl as his father had.

You were not so traditionally minded. “He hardly has to tie himself to the first girl he likes. Vittoria didn’t stick with hers. I didn’t stick around with mine.”

“Elena was from another time, no?”

“Oh, they…” You hadn’t discussed this often with Yena. “They were from the days of the Azure Halls. After Elena had been betrothed to another. At the time, I had to cope with that.” Suffice it to say, Yena was the primary benefactor of you not being unfamiliar with the female body when it came time to put Vittoria inside of her so many years ago. The church may have frowned upon that, but Vitelian society was not of the same mind.

You cut it off there, though. You didn’t want to talk to your wife about how you’d slept with other women, even if it was before meeting her, even if you doubted, she minded at all considering that she had facilitated Benito’s existence. She proved your expectations correct immediately.

“Well,” Yena was more interested than discomforted, “What were they like? I recall that you were very single by the time you wore a uniform…”

>You’d not gotten to know them. Prostitutes were a purpose driven sort, after all, and you likely stopped thinking about each other after a few days.
>A pair of other students, likeminded girls. Adventurous and experimental, even though the relations only lasted for a few months each.
>You had been close to a sea woman, though it had only been for a year. You’d honestly driven her from your mind…though perhaps it wouldn’t have worked out anyways, driven as you were, and that had been the reason to break it off.
>Other?

>>6330814
>Send them home for a time to Lapizlazulli. They might not be surrounded by soldiers there, but it was their house, and Elena would take good care of them.

>A pair of other students, likeminded girls. Adventurous and experimental, even though the relations only lasted for a few months each.

>>6330812
>Leave them with the Legion on Nuvole Blu. They were safest surrounded by the men.

>>6330814
>You had been close to a sea woman, though it had only been for a year. You’d honestly driven her from your mind…though perhaps it wouldn’t have worked out anyways, driven as you were, and that had been the reason to break it off.

>>6330812
>Send them home for a time to Lapizlazulli. They might not be surrounded by soldiers there, but it was their house, and Elena would take good care of them.
>>6330814
>You had been close to a sea woman, though it had only been for a year. You’d honestly driven her from your mind…though perhaps it wouldn’t have worked out anyways, driven as you were, and that had been the reason to break it off.

>>6330814
>Leave them with the Legion on Nuvole Blu. They were safest surrounded by the men.

>A pair of other students, likeminded girls. Adventurous and experimental, even though the relations only lasted for a few months each.

File: mummified.jpg (1.84 MB, 2400x1350)

1.84 MB JPG

>>6330812
>Leave them with the Legion on Nuvole Blu. They were safest surrounded by the men.
>>6330814
>A pair of other students, likeminded girls. Adventurous and experimental, even though the relations only lasted for a few months each.
I don't think I wish to be horny anymore, Yena...

>>6330812
>Bring them along. It might be for your nerves, but it was also to see Lorenzo, who had been away from the others just as much as you.

>>6330814
>You had been close to a sea woman, though it had only been for a year. You’d honestly driven her from your mind…though perhaps it wouldn’t have worked out anyways, driven as you were, and that had been the reason to break it off.

>>6330814
>Leave them with the Legion on Nuvole Blu. They were safest surrounded by the men.

>A pair of other students, likeminded girls. Adventurous and experimental, even though the relations only lasted for a few months each.

>>6330812
>>Leave them with the Legion on Nuvole Blu. They were safest surrounded by the men.

>>6330814
>>You had been close to a sea woman, though it had only been for a year. You’d honestly driven her from your mind…though perhaps it wouldn’t have worked out anyways, driven as you were, and that had been the reason to break it off.

>>6330814
>Bring them along.
>A pair of other students

>>6330817
>>6330860
Back home to the city of the Revolution's birth.

>>6330826
>>6330872
>>6330881
>>6330961
>>6330966
Keep the kids with the Legion.

>>6330904
>>6330988
The whole family is coming to see the eldest son.

Alright, and for the surprisingly divisive one:

>6330817
>6330872
>6330881
>6330961
>6330988
The flitting feelings of couplings of curiosity.

>6330826
>6330860
>6330904
>6330966
The time you were actually bewitched by a siren.

Alright then, updating.

You’d had a couple of short relationships while in the Azure Halls, you told your wife. Brief, but fiery, as passions were in such an environment and age. After Elena had been permanently promised to another, as you’d all but been assured of, you were driven somewhat mad by your mournful desperation, and hooked up with a hill girl in the biology department you’d met and slept with on the same night. She had been fun, you remembered, but exhausting, the sort who took her studies far less seriously than you did while being much more demanding of your time. When one week you realized you’d spent more on condoms than you had on food, you became more wary…and her, eventually, bored. You broke things off, only for her cousin to come your way.

A repeat of the last time, before bouncing back to the other girl, then back again, until the chaos of it rattled your senses enough to stop being dragged about by your member and by grief of love you hadn’t known was lost. Thankfully, you’d not met either of those cousins again, nor knew where they were. Their names even slipped the mind.

“But you proved addicting, did you not, Palmiro?” Yena said affectionately as she wrapped her arms around yours, and reached down to paw at your crotch. “I have always told-”

“I did hear it plenty,” you cut her off, “But you shouldn’t compare yourself. They weren’t good for me. But you couldn’t be better.” Though you’d been well prepared for the demands Yena’s libido had made of you, as it turned out, due to that experience…and you had kept it a secret from the girl-hungry members of the Young Futurists, which had been a great challenge, but Cesare had helped you with that.

…Cesare. How could he…

“Darling?” Yena asked.

“Let us not speak of the past any longer,” you said tautly. “All I want is here with me now.”

Yena was put in the mood, though- even though she was once again disappointed in herself that night. It wouldn’t be long, you assured both her and yourself, when this annoying condition would pass on. When Nuvole Blu wouldn’t be the center of your world for at least a little bit. Even though, in the interests of not uprooting routines, you would be leaving your children besides the babies back here on the island. It was safest for them here, you thought, if it became known to any enemies you were unaware of or underestimated. Even if the entirety of the Legion wasn’t up on the surface guarding them, there were more than enough on rotation, in reserve or replacement training, or simply directly assigned that there should have been nothing to worry about. A good thing, since you expected general stress to be the cause of your present woes.

The eighteenth of September rolled around, by which time you had departed from the island to get a flight from Larrocia to Delsau’s capital of Debut du Leblanc, or as most simply called it, Leblanc. Delsau was a calm and picturesque country, you had heard, but you would not be staying long enough to experience it when Naukland was the destination. Neither were you unhappy to not be able to see much of Larrocia before departing. It had become uncanny and discomforting to see how it had changed from when you had managed the peace of the land. The old duke had been assassinated, and in his place the provincial capital had been completely overtaken by Revolutionary League mobs, the city looking half like it had undergone a sack in places. Details that you’d consider having your cousin look into, to tell you of just what the benefit might have been of all this, to Pescatore…

-----

September 18, 1928, Beneath the Vitelian Sea

“Enough of the small talk, Grandmaster. I can tell that you have something to share with me that is not happy news.”

“Your majesty. The Abyssonomers are concerned. They say that the Usurpers are meddling where they shouldn’t, thinking their pioneer settlements fortified against the consequences. Or maybe they’re just willing to take the risk and suffer the damage if it means swifter triumph. The Verbaner tribesmen have had good luck, but I don’t know if it will be enough. Not when the enemy is advancing upon our gates even as we make gains beneath.”

“You do not have to layer ill tidings in honey, Grandmaster. Be true. Have we a chance of beating the Usurpers back in the Gallery?”

“There have been too many setbacks, my queen. We have taken too many losses, and our best chances to regain the initiative risk what we have maintained as very precious. With the aid of the surfacers, the Usurpers have regained their advantage. Even with the new weapons on the way, victory will be extremely difficult to achieve without some sort of sacrifice, and even then, it will be a victory of survival and seeing the next day, not one of songs and festivals.”

“We are a people well used to sacrifice, Grandmaster.”

“…”

“…Has there been any news in finding other ways upwards? Of seeking out other surfacers? The world is vast. Surely we can find somebody sympathetic to our cause.”

“Nay. It is very difficult to find our ways upwards from the passages that go deep. The directions beneath do not correspond to those above. It is feeling blindly in the dark for friends.”

“Then there is no other option than the plan.”

“I am afraid so, your majesty. Nothing else would be so certain to stop the Usurpers.”

“Nothing else would cause as much suffering either. I am undecided. Tell the Council to do whatever they must. Allow the Guilds to do as they will as long as it is for war. Even if the plan succeeds, the Usurpers will be ever persistent…”

-----

September 19, 1928, Stor Ankomst, Naukland

By the time you’d crossed the continent, it had been late. Instead of bothering your son and his escort to only meet you at the end of the day before retiring to an inn, you’d be coming over to his apartment at brunch time. Yena had to be fended off that night- she was eager to end the dry spell, but at this point she was becoming just as much of a stressor as anything else. The next day, you promised her, after you’d caught up properly with your son again.

At night, even on the relative edge of the ancient city, Stor Ankomst had been bright and bustling, even though the night sky itself was dark and deep as it had been beneath the ground. It was brightly lit and the people were still busily sipping coffee, unconcerned about being stimulated so late. That had the expected result in the morning, when you and Yena woke and decided to briefly walk about the neighborhood, Old Nauk phrasebook in hand. It was quiet, chilly, and foggy from the northern sea, and very few people save for ragpickers and street cleaners were about. It struck you how polite they all were: even if it was obvious that you and your wife were foreigners. The superiority that Nauk were supposed to be incurable of didn’t seem to translate into unpleasantness or rudeness. Perhaps your perspective was merely colored by the kind of place that Vitelia had tragically become…

Where Emre had been a place that defied its northern character and insisted on its own ostentatiousness, Stor Ankomst was a place of black and blue-streaked stone, of pointed spires and steep sloping roofs, and perhaps smartly so, as the cold wind already brought down fine flakes of crystals that melted upon coming near the warm earth. Chimneys poured white smoke into the air that melded with the mist, and the fog itself glowed gold and orange from the street lamps and city lights. Long, droning horn calls of ships arriving and departing echoed through the streets from the harbor, a great bay that the city founded by Sversk the Conqueror upon the Nauk’s arrival to Vinstraga wrapped around at its furthest reaches. Not necessarily a tall city all that way, but certainly a wide and spread out one. Distances that guaranteed that motor vehicles inhabited the streets newer than many of the buildings, either because they were, or there was an insistence on keeping the old in the new. Locomotives lazily chuffed alongside wrought iron fences cordoning them off from the other residents of the city, watched diligently by long-furred alley cats perched wherever they could fit. The archaic architecture aside, the density of machines in this city suited the mental image you had kept of it. A place of high technology, if not necessarily the future you envisioned in the dawn.

A good place for Lorenzo, probably.

The apartment he was staying at was near a trolley stop, a common place for students, Astrida had told you in selecting it, though not property owned by the engineering school. Otherwise it would have been wastefully expensive rather than frugally decent, and since Lorenzo nor her demanded the comforts of great space, it did well, even if it wouldn’t be enough for you and the others to stay over in. Much like its neighbors, the place was wide, dark, and austere, with angular juttings of stone running down the lengths and corners being the preferred element of decoration rather than paint or color, like stone carvers had been the only one allowed to touch it after being laid down.

“We are here,” you declared to Yena, who held Lucia and Giacomo close to her chest and back on multicolored patterned slings. “Apartment 244. I wonder if he’s bothered to cut his hair yet. At this rate his length will match yours before his sisters do.”

“Perhaps,” Yena thought aloud, “The women he’s been near prefer it that way?”

“Maybe.” Your ears pricked to the sound of clacking feet upon stone. The acoustics of Nauk buildings were surprisingly absorbent, so when you turned your head, you and the owner of the steps saw one another quite close.

She was dressed in a way that was clearly determined to draw the eye, though not in an outrageous way: a shiny blue silk and decoratively scaled vest over a clingy dress that faded from blue to white like waves of surf, peeks of the shoulder and the neck from clothes purposefully cut taught to a slender figure. She was also had been looking down at what must have been a telegram. Looking like she was about o go on a date was hardly the thing that gave you pause, though. On the continent of Vinstraga, most people were quite pale, and the Nauk were the progenitors of such a tendency, despite their tendency to heavily freckle not necessarily lasting in the descended other races. Even the native peoples such as Yaegir, Nief’yem, Vyemani and Pohja tended to be similar in hue, and Naukland was demographically overwhelmingly of its namesake, as it would prefer. Which made the presence of the brown of a Sea Vitelian completely unexpected, even if the bleached wavy blonde hair that tumbled to the shoulders might have been more in character. The face told that you knew this girl, though- and the expression on it that she knew you just as well.

A heavy silence as you both stared at one another, until you broke it.

“Good day, Comptessa Di Martellosa.” You required no complex deduction to know why she was here. “I didn’t know you had an interest in engineering. Or could speak Old Nauk. You’re quite a long way from the Vitelian Sea, from your islands.”

“Er.” The Sea Vitelian girl had not even twitched, turned to stone. “You must be mistaken. I do not know anybody of that name.”

“Goodness,” Yena commented next, “A Sea Vitelian here? She looks just like Chiara did, doesn’t she? Not just because she is of her colors…”

“I don’t know anybody with that name either!” But she was unmistakable, and playing ignorant was pointless. Her eyes snapped from you, back to the door of the apartment she had been approaching, then back to you. “I must be going!” She turned and walked quickly back down the hall, might have broken into a run if the dress she wore would have allowed for it.

She wasn’t going to be chased, though. You knocked heavily on Lorenzo’s door, and almost immediately, the speckled face of Astrida appeared- and she was unexpectedly possessed of one more arm than you remembered, which you stared at enough to wonder if she was an identical twin.

“Hello boss!” She said brightly, “Hello, Missus Bonaventura!” She saluted, and you noticed she was in a lower cut shirt than you’d preferred her to wear around your son. “Oh, arm. Is a fake one.” Astrida rolled a sleeve up to show. “Lorenzo made it. He should have a lot to tell you about it!” She turned and called back into the apartment. “Lorenzo! Your father mother are here!” A smile back to you. “He forget how time passes when he work.”

Your son came around- and no, he had not cut his hair, though his face, while still soft, had gotten some much needed mannishness to it. “Father,” he said, as he came forward, and you caught him in embrace, “Mother,” He gave Yena the hug next, though he had to maneuver around two babes. “These are…Lucia and…erm…”

“Giacomo,” you supplied.

“Sorry. I feel like it hasn’t even been a year…” Lorenzo looked down awkwardly. “…I don’t know what to say, father. It was easier to say in letters…”

“I am alive, and you are doing well. That’s all that needs to be said.”

Lorenzo nodded shortly, and addressed his guardian as you and Yena let yourselves in through the door. “Astrida, did you, er, see if Irena came by?”

“She didn’t even use a false name…” You said under your breath in amusement.

“Who, the brown girl?” Astrida asked loudly, “No, nobody come to the door besides Boss.”

Lorenzo frowned in disappointment, sighing. “She’s late a lot of the time, but she’s not usually this late. I wonder if she forgot. I was hoping for her to meet you, since…I mean, she’s Vitelian, and Father’s well regarded, aren’t you?” He must have expected more surprise from revealing her nationality, but it didn't come.

You’d like to say you were so regarded by the general populace of your country, even if the people in power might not admit it. Though Irena here already would have had personal experience to draw on rather than the vague picture of a powerful figure.

>Ask your eldest son about anything in particular?
>Other things to do/see?

>>6331283
>Ask your eldest son about anything in particular?

Did Irena tell you why she came to study in Naukland?

Any interesting engineering projects you've had so far in university?

Other things to do/see?
Tour his campus, do some sightseeing of the local landmarks

>>6331283
>Ask your eldest son about anything in particular?
Ask about the pretty young thing that went scampering off as soon as she saw us. Talk to him about his studies and his research. Ask if he's encountered other Neif'yum around and what they're like. Talk to him about his peers and about the general revolutionary fervor or lack there of among the youth. Tell him how the molemen war is going and the scientific advancements learned from them.

>Other things to do/see?
Ask him about romantic date spots and other places of interest worth seeing. A tour around town.

>>6331283
Clarify if Irena is his new girlfriend.
Give him lots of praise and attention (thats part of why we're here)
Take the wife and kids on a sightseeing tour as suggested by other anons (the main tourist traps and the university, and maybe see some tonks if possible)

Does Miss Vang have any revolutionary contacts? Has she been getting a feel for the public sentiment?

>>6331289
Supporting

>>6331289
+1

I must have been more behind on sleep than I thought.

>>6331288
So what's happening here, with the university and you?

>>6331289
>>6331356
>>6331543
Get a window into Lorenzo's life and times, then make fun of him.

>>6331302
So how friend are we talking here?

Updating.

“We did see a pretty young thing scamper away that could only have come from Vitelia,” you said, “I’m guessing that’s Irena?”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened. “Oh. So she did come…but she didn’t want to see you. That’s…not what I expected.”

“She isn’t your girlfriend, is he?” His mother teased as she sat upon an armchair for two- which itself seemed to be where Vang tended to sleep from the size of the place.

That turned your son’s cheeks pink. “No, No, that’s not it,” he said, “We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks.” It could take far less time to get attached than that, you knew, but let him have his logic. “It’s nice to have somebody who speaks good Vitelian around here. Her Old Nauk is better than mine too.”

“That’s an odd language to know, isn’t it?” Yena asked you.

“Not if you insist on reading Cathedra text in its old language.” You said, “But most inclined to that would prefer theological school. Not Engineering over in Naukland, whose Republicans have kept the Cathedra at arm’s length if still in polite regard outwardly. You must know why she’s chosen this of all places, Lorenzo.”

“…Well…” Lorenzo frowned, “She said that it’s for the same reason I came. It’s the best in the world. She has the money for it. Also, Stor Ankomst is one of the largest shipyards and harbors around. It’s a heavy engineering holy city, in a way. I suppose. She’s not very good with the technical aspect of things, though. She’s needed a lot of tutoring, but…I don’t mind.”

“He like to make the girls happy,” Vang said loudly with a laugh, embarrassing your son more, “Lorenzo, tell the Boss about this arm! Is not just some hook hand, see?” She locked the elbow and shifted her shoulder, and you saw the false hand open and close, something you certainly didn’t see much of for prosthetics which had to replace the arm to the shoulder.

Lorenzo had made something like this while being only sixteen years old. What had you been doing when you were sixteen? Could you help being overwhelmed with pride, in spite of any of your boy’s shortcomings from being meek?

“This is an incredible feat for you,” you told Lorenzo, inspecting the false limb, “There are many people whose lives would be changed by things like this. Is this what you’re studying in the university?”

“No,” Lorenzo said, “That was just something I did for fun.” He seemed to realize how that minimized it, and stammered out, “I mean, it wasn’t easy, it was actually a lot of work, but no, I got the idea for that from Imperial artisan books, not from school. They tend to focus on machines that are much bigger. But small, precision machines have a lot of potential for those big ones too.”

“I am lab rat,” Vang said, patting her shoulder, “I do not get money to pay normal, hah hah.”

Few would. Especially in Vitelia. Even if Lorenzo humbly denied that it was the specialist machining that it was: prosthetics were hardly ever general use. That arm had been measured and fitted to put on his guardian, and if it was actuated by movement, it probably wouldn’t work on anybody else without a good deal of adjustments.

“So,” Yena said, moving back to the other subject, “Tell us about Irena, won’t you? Not many of your classmates would have been invited to brunch, would they?”

“She’s…” Lorenzo thought, and searched, “She’s a bit prickly with people, but I don’t think she means it. Mostly I think she’s lonely. When we’re around each other, she’s a lot more relaxed. I don’t think she’s used to…I mean, having friends. Or being with people her age. That sounds weird, but in lectures, with all the older professors, she acts more normal around them than other students. She’s pretty and exotic to this place, so-”

“Oh? Is she?” Yena butted in, and her son turned scarlet.

“Yes, she is, so what? But, but, the point I mean, some of the other students tried to…put the moves on her, I guess. She didn’t like that at all. I think part of why she likes being around me is that I’m younger than her.” He foresaw the next question. “She’s the same age as big sis. A few months older.” So, eighteen. “Irena has a few people watching over her like Ms. Astrida does for me, but I haven’t met them. I think she likes getting the chance to leave them behind so we can do things. There’s a lot to see around here…and I think she never got to see much from wherever she came from. It’s sort of getting in the way of the studies for us, to be honest…”

This sounded like a familiar story, but whenever a woman was taking up enough time to impact studying, it was never because they were merely acquaintances. Lorenzo was getting uncomfortable with getting probed further about the girl, though, so you switched subjects.

“What kind of studies are you doing?” You asked, “Heavy machining, you said?”

Lorenzo nodded eagerly. “The literature of it, not the mathematics. That’s later. After we’ve, well, learned it all. I’m close to that though.” He’d been enrolled for about a year after all. “We go by Northern Locomotives a lot, and that’s always fun, but I don’t think I could get you and mom in. The industry needed to make the power sources for the big machines is more than I imagined. I want to get into the Armor Bureau sometime again, but that’ll have to be for next year. They came out with a new tank this year, you must have heard. The m/28. It’s an iteration on the old m/22. But I’ve heard that tanks are only getting bigger, since the war the Reich made on Fealinn. That secret project…if I could get my eyes on it, that’d be something else…”

You’d have to find the time and space to tell him about what had been found underground. If he wanted esoteric engineering, then the Harzwohlkan would have inspiration and technology that would fascinate him endlessly. Its limits weren’t even known yet to your own research team- they’d have another report ready when you got back, assuredly, but your son would have to wait. Unless you could find something to send securely to him small enough to be packaged inconspicuously.

“Let’s not get too comfortable here,” you proposed, “Lorenzo, you must know the best brunch places for this late-waking city, yes? Let’s go out. Talk with your mother, too, I’m going to talk with Vang about some other things.”

As you went out into the foggy morn, you saw Vang looking behind her. “Oh, is nothing,” she told you, “Lorenzo’s girlfriend, ha ha.”

You didn’t see her, but you trusted Vang’s judgment. Especially when here, she would be unmistaken for anybody else. She hadn’t been permanently deterred. Good. You wanted to have a proper word with her. “So. Astrida,” you followed a few meters behind Lorenzo and Yena, Giacomo in his elder brother’s arms. “I know Naukland is a different place from Emre and Vitelia. It’s been Republican since before Anton Ange had entered history’s stage. Do you know anybody inclined towards the Dawn here?”

“Incline? Maybe.” Astrida said as she toyed with her prosthetic, “But…how to put, you know how you see two team of ball player and pick one to cheer for?”

You could already figure that out yourself, but you let her explain in proper detail. While Naukland was more liberally inclined in societal guidelines and structure than plenty of places, they saw the Dawn as a useful ally against the Reich- but not something welcome to change their own society. Additionally, since the Revolutionary Reds had been practically cut out of Emrean politics, anything too politically extreme was seen as distasteful to support over the milder current Emrean Republic, which was much closer to what Naukland was anyways. In short, you’d not find allies here, but you wouldn’t find enemies, either.

A shame, but what could you expect of Nauk? Naukland was probably the wrong place to look for individuals of that race who sought the Dawn, since they’d probably have quit of their ancient homeland when the inclination and ability came to them. They were a proud race, and not unjustifiably so. Unlike the pride of Vitelia, Naukland was at the head of the continent economically and technologically, and had suffered no ruinous wars for a very long time, instead profiting greatly off of the sale of the means of their execution.

The café was not too far, but already quite busy. Apparently, a favorite of the industrial workers who woke late to lessened daylight in some seasons, it spilled out over the surrounding town like a river burst from its shores. As would be expected of this part of Stor Ankomst- it was a city divided up into multiple districts, and beside the university, the locomotive nexus of the city also shared this district.

“Ah,” Yena sighed, “It seems we are too late.”

“No, we are not,” Lorenzo said calmly, “Their food is prepared ahead of time. They’re merely eating it and taking up mushroom coffee. The inside will be sparse and quiet enough. And the actual drink not made of dirt will remain untouched.”

“Is not dirt,” Vang said in objection, but coffee to you or any Vitelian was only made of one thing, and it wasn’t mushrooms any more than it was roasted barley.

A curious birdcall came from behind somewhere, and Lorenzo turned his head. “Ah…father, mother, Ms. Vang, go on, I want to go back and see something for a moment.”

“No.” You said firmly, and none would question the patriarch. “Go on. I’ve something I want to check myself.”

You knew that call well, after all, for it was one purposefully resembling that of a seabird that was much too far away from here to be of a true animal. Though the particular creature must have come from the same place. Indeed, you rounded the corner, and now, too close to slip away, you saw the startled eyes of the Comptessa Di Martellosa, though in seeing she was faced again, the fear turned to resigned contempt.

“Would you prefer to be called by your name, Irena?” You asked, “I thought myself polite in addressing you by your station. Like it or not, my son is your friend, or so he speaks. So there is no point in fleeing me, least of all for my blood.” You took a step back. “I do not mean to threaten you. But your presence here is extremely mysterious, and I’ve learned to be suspicious of such things lest my own blood be spilled, and I won’t tolerate that being done to my family.”

File: scene_70_seacountess.jpg (360 KB, 774x1200)

360 KB JPG

Di Martellosa bit her lip, clenched her fists, but relaxed them and looked down. “I mean you nor your house no harm. I had wished this meeting to have come when I had the advantage over you, but I suppose there is no need to hide my intentions. I did come here to be close to your son, Bonaventura.”

“This is a very expensive means to do such a thing.” You should know. “You’ve no interest at all in academics?”

“That was secondary,” she said defensively, “I will be plain with the truth. Since your fall from power, my position has been unstable. Maintained by the grace of the Red Prince. Yet times have been changing quickly in Vitelia, have they not? I am suffered for now, but at some point, I am sure that the Red Prince will see the benefit of having done to me what was done to the Duke Di Larencci. My lands may vanish with a stroke of pen. My coffers seized by the very Leagues that once purported to have no quarrel with me. All I am certain to have, and offer, are my body and blood. So I came here to offer them to the man who I have come to realize, is whom I have to thank for leaving me the rest at all.”

“Comptessa, is this truly the place to have this discussion?” You asked, “I am not considering deals right now. Only friendships. How the youth decide their future is not a power I want. All I want to know is if you two are friends or not. Then you can come along to brunch instead of skulking in the shadows like an urchin. You are certainly not dressed the part to be one.”

Di Martellosa smoldered at you, a frustration in her blue eyes. “What does it matter what he and I think? I am not more the free for my station, Bonaventura, and never have been. My fate was ever being decided by others from the moment I was born.” She was avoiding it, though, rather than outright denying feeling. “Whatever he told you is the truth. But the truth is not what decides matters of life nor state, is it? So I have come to your bloodline for shelter from what is to come. As would many others I have rallied whom lack friends in high places, which is what I offer.”

“Need you offer anything?”

“I do. I offer my hand in marriage to your son, Bonaventura. In exchange, your Legion will gain those who also seek shelter. At least one thousand along with the commitment of their remaining financial estate, though I know you are more selective than to take on every applicant. I had my servants seek that much out. If that is distasteful to you, then I would accept being granted a position of command, too.”

You looked around, making sure that court was still being held in an alleyway of all things, by a girl not much older than your daughter and just as cloud-headed in grander matters.

“Irena,” you dispensed with any titles, “You are attending school. Even if I allowed this, I could not make you a captain and also have you continue this education."

"My son would appreciate it least of all, and he would be the one to choose whom to marry at all.”

“He would not know of a deal,” Di Martellosa said, “And I would not fail. He is a…kind man, Bonaventura. Too kind. Too easy to ensnare even for one such as myself.”

“What of your desires, then?”

Di Martellosa curled her lip to maintain an air of rebellion, but her eyes went downcast. “What does that matter? My desires have never mattered. My own person does not matter save for that, until those with power deem otherwise soon enough, I have the King’s bestowment upon my house. Anyways. There are worse men to be betrothed to. Many and much worse, crueler and less fair for any noble blood or less. Besides. When given no other choice, do not wives learn to love what they have been given?”

On one hand, this was a ludicrous meeting. Caught out, instead of trying to hide anything at all, Di Martellosa had spilled her entire plan in hopes that it would entice you. Perhaps she had no confidence that you would see anything else as not being suspect, that you wouldn’t follow up on whatever story she gave regardless of truth. She was making the hasty decisions of the future that many a youth thought to do with an air of romance and finality, their short lives not weighted by worldly wisdom. By all rights, you should tell her to calm herself and simply do as she would be doing had you not arrived.

On the other. One thousand men, perhaps more, as well as their funding to equip them or better fit the Legion. She was right in that you doubted that they would have the fervor you desired, coming to you out of a sense of necessity and desperation rather than wishing for the Dawn, but even if only half could be made to look properly to the light, that would still be enough to fill out two new companies. In a time when expansion of the Legion was the most important part of fulfilling any future plans…

>What reason was there not to agree to this? The Revolution needed it, and your son would not have anything he did not wish. This was a completely conscientious deal, and a practical one.
>You could not promise your son’s hand in marriage, that was something that was his to decide. And you would rather not have this girl as daughter in law anyways. Yet you would shelter her- even if it meant placing somebody quite unready for command in the position of such…
>A bribe was unnecessary to you. Insist that it would be better to forget you’d spoken anything of this in the first place. If she wanted to be with your son, then let it be something natural, not a game where children were pieces to be moved over a board.
>No deals will be struck and no promises made. Lady Di Martellosa should be away from this place if her only goal was to take your son, because you would forbid it, no matter the rewards.
>Other?

>>6331827
>What reason was there not to agree to this? The Revolution needed it, and your son would not have anything he did not wish. This was a completely conscientious deal, and a practical one.
Sounds like a good deal, but we have to screen each and every one of the men she offers. Make sure none of them are loyal to the other powerholders and fuck us.

How much more betrayal can Bonetto take?

>>6331827
>A bribe was unnecessary to you. Insist that it would be better to forget you’d spoken anything of this in the first place. If she wanted to be with your son, then let it be something natural, not a game where children were pieces to be moved over a board.
Eh, two companies of fodder doesn't really interest me. Especially since re-education and fervor maxxing aren't something we handle directly with mechanic
If she thinks she can rizz up the boy, she's more than welcome.
Though, I'm personally partial to at least one of Palmiro's sons finding a nice wide of hip Nief’yem gal that unlike their mother has a mind towards the Dawn. That's purely personal preference though, rather than anything Benetto would probably care too much about.

>>6331827
>A bribe was unnecessary to you. Insist that it would be better to forget you’d spoken anything of this in the first place. If she wanted to be with your son, then let it be something natural, not a game where children were pieces to be moved over a board.
Honestly, while the legion needs the manpower, it needs manpower that truly believes in what it fights for. I'm sick and tired of compromising our beliefs, even if I know we'll be forced into situations where we are forced to. And honestly, I don't want to force a marriage pact onto our boy. And besides, if she truly wants to get find a place for all those souls, we do have some connections in Solstadt...

>>6331827
>You could not promise your son’s hand in marriage, that was something that was his to decide. And you would rather not have this girl as daughter in law anyways. Yet you would shelter her- even if it meant placing somebody quite unready for command in the position of such…

>>6331827
>A bribe was unnecessary to you. Insist that it would be better to forget you’d spoken anything of this in the first place. If she wanted to be with your son, then let it be something natural, not a game where children were pieces to be moved over a board.
>Say that you're not against them getting together.
I'm still in favor of them getting together and of us making a revolutionary princess out of her.

>>6331827
>Other?
She wants assurances, guarantees of safety from a marriage I do not want to force. If she can sway Lorenzo, then great, everyone wins, but in the meantime I think we can make her another offer.
Organize her people as another mercenary group under her ownership, but lease them to the Aurora Legion for now. She can keep a portion of their pay enough to secure a future for her and her people in case of the worst scenario. She can have more of her own choice in the future this way instead of being completely tied to us or her title.

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>>6331827
>What reason was there not to agree to this? The Revolution needed it, and your son would not have anything he did not wish. This was a completely conscientious deal, and a practical one.
>>6331836
>How much more betrayal can Bonetto take?

>>6331827
>What reason was there not to agree to this?

I'd say invite her along to brunch and let her and Lorenzo know that they have your approval to court, and if it works out then great, we'll have an alliance.

But we'll encourage them to finish their education. That saying about "Can't have thinking done by cowards, and fighting done by fools". But maybe trade trains for ships/planes (or underground trains to link islands with the underworld).

This is probably compatible with the "a bribe was uneccesary" vote, so that would be a second choice.

>>6331836
>>6332028
Give me your men, I'll give you my man.

>>6332035
...As above? I think?

>>6331851
>>6331868
>>6331895
You won't stand in the way of love, if that's what it is, but nothing else will be chained to it as a package deal.

>>6331874
Take the men- not the marriage. You've an eclectic mix of captains anyways.

>>6331918
Instead of incorporation, open a branch, and expand another way...

I'll be keeping this open some more hours, probably will call and update late tonight.

>>6331827
>What reason was there not to agree to this? The Revolution needed it, and your son would not have anything he did not wish. This was a completely conscientious deal, and a practical one.

We can send them out to Sosaldt with Third Company, maybe even keep them there long term after this underground business is completed since other anons have rightly pointed out the concerns about ideology.

>>6331827
>Other
Give her our blessing to court Lorenzo, if they get married we'll accept her offer as a dowry.

>>6331827
>>What reason was there not to agree to this? The Revolution needed it, and your son would not have anything he did not wish. This was a completely conscientious deal, and a practical one.